


Try Again

by cheollie22



Series: Fuck It [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:03:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9364409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheollie22/pseuds/cheollie22
Summary: No, Minghao doesn't like Junhui.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I encourage you to read "Hate Phase" first to clear the plot out, but I mean, you can do what you want lol. Pls enjoy!

It’s been four days after the angry kiss and Minghao doesn’t get a single text from Junhui asking about the project, or the kiss. He personally doesn’t mind, seeing as neither of them knew what to do after their recent fight, but the project was due in less than a week and he didn’t want Junhui fucking anything up. He needed a good grade. 

But also, he didn’t see Junhui in general. He usually sees the boy walking around the quad or running to another building. Both of them are business majors. It’s hard not to see the other when they attend some of the same classes. Minghao tells himself that he shouldn’t care about how little he’s seen of Junhui, but it doesn’t hurt to see if the other way okay. Right? 

**[To: Junhui]** where are you?

It’s simple and Minghao leaves it for a while, writing a paper for his other class. Ten minutes pass and he doesn’t get an answer. It’s 5:30 on a Saturday. Why wouldn’t he reply back? Minghao lets himself be annoyed before he hears his dorm room door open. By the sound of the voices, it’s Wonwoo, his room mate, with Mingyu. He ignores them when they shut the door and sit on Wonwoo’s bed, laughing about something. Five minutes pass with no reply and Minghao suddenly remembers that Mingyu is Junhui’s room mate. He usually never visits the tall boy’s dorm and always forgets who rooms with him.

Both boys present knew of the predicament. Mingyu telling Wonwoo instantly after it happened, much to Minghao’s delight. However, they also knew better than to ask the red head about it. So when Minghao turns his chair to ask where Junhui is, both boys stare at him in surprise. 

“Why do you want to know?” Mingyu asks, not responding to the question.

“I texted him fifteen minutes ago and he isn’t replying. Junhui doesn’t just not reply.” Minghao states flatly.

Mingyu seems to mull something over before finally answering the boy’s question. 

“He should still be at our dorm. Last time I checked, he had no intention in leaving.” 

At that, Minghao stands up and packs his laptop and books into his backpack. He was going to make Wen Junhui work on the project or so help him. He would punch him, with his fist and not with his mouth this time.

He quickly shoved his sneakers on, grabbed his keys, and left. He didn’t know why he was feeling more irritated than usual, but he was. He wouldn’t have this problem if dumb Wen Junhui chose to major in something that wasn’t business management. He wouldn’t have this horrible relationship with Junhui if the boy just didn’t tease and mock him. He wouldn’t have kissed Junhui if he wasn’t so god damn infuriated with him. This was all Wen Junhui’s fault and Minghao was sure of it. 

By the time he made the ten minute walk to the other dorm building, he was filled with a new sense of annoyance. He takes to the stairs, walking all the way up to the third floor with irritation written on his face. He wants to get it all over with. He needed to finish the project, not only for the grade, but for his sanity. 

Minghao swings open the door to the hallway and walks down to number 337, Mingyu and Junhui’s room. The boy doesn’t wait a single second to knock on the door, loud and demanding. He only waits a minute before knocking again, too impatient to wait for a socially acceptable time interval. Another minute passes and Minghao’s ready to bang on the door again, until it suddenly opened.

“Mingyu, stop forgetting-oh.” 

Junhui is holding the door open in mild confusion and surprise, with wet hair and no shirt. Minghao’s brain short circuited, not expecting to see Jun half naked. He stays silent for a little too long before being reminded on why he was there. 

“Move.” 

“What?”

“I’m coming in.” 

Minghao invited himself inside, Jun simply moving over without a fight. The red head went and sat down on the bed sitting all the way to the right. It had a ridiculous amount of snack wrappers littered all over it with a cookbook opened to a page about lasagna and something else Italian. With that, it was no doubt Mingyu’s bed. Minghao simply gathered the wrappers and threw them out, telling himself he’d scold Mingyu later. He put the cookbook on the ground and then took his shoes off. He sat back down and started pulling his supplies out from his back pack as to not look at Junhui’s chest. And no, Minghao did not think Junhui was attractive with his lean figure and slightly defined abs. It was a nuisance, that’s all. 

“And you’re here because?” Junhui questions the other.

“I texted you like twenty minutes ago and you didn’t answer.” Minghao replies without looking up, setting his laptop in front of him.

The other boy snickers. “You sound like a clingy girlfriend. What do you actually want?” 

“I’m not clingy for one, and two, to finish this project.”

Minghao can only hear a hum in response. He looks up to see Junhui drying his hair with a towel, still half naked. Minghao’s tired of trying not to be weird about the ‘no shirt’ thing.

“Put a shirt on.” Minghao states, looking back down at his laptop.

“This is my dorm. I can be half naked if I want to be.” 

“It’s indecent.” 

“And to who exactly?” 

Minghao looks back up. Junhui is now facing him, towel around his neck and a smirk on his lips. The boy starts to feel his blood boil again. 

“To me. I’m a guest.”

“Guest my ass.” Junhui huffs out. “You invited yourself in.”

“And yet, you still let me in.” The other counters back.

Junhui takes the towel and throws it on the desk chair. “Like you would leave if I told you to get out.” 

“I’ll get out once we’re done this project. I don’t exactly want to be here.”

“But, you still came here though. Right?” 

The red head stays silent. He’s right about that and Minghao personally hates it. No, he really doesn’t want to be here. He wants to get this stupid project done and possibly never see Junhui after it.

Junhui sits down on his bed, grabbing his phone in the process. “Besides, what makes you think I would work on the project?” 

Minghao furrows his brows in annoyance. “Because we only have six more days and not even half of it is done.”

“Calm down sugar, I’ll get it done on my own time.” 

Just like last time, Minghao feels himself getting more irritated. Junhui calls him ‘sugar’ and refuses to work on the project even though he doesn’t want Minghao to be there when he knows that it’ll get rid of him faster.

“Oh my god, if you want me to leave just do the fucking project. It’s that simple.” 

Junhui’s eyes snap up to meet Minghao’s. 

“I didn’t ask for you to be here. That’s your fault. You came here for nothing.” 

Minghao is back to feeling all his hatred again for the stubborn asshole in front of him. He wanted to get it all done so he didn’t have to deal with the male across from him again. Why was that so hard to understand?

“No, you’re going to do this damn project even if I have to make you.” 

“Then make me Haohao.” 

Junhui’s statement is a challenge, one with a teasing tone and a smile to accompany it. Minghao wants to rip his hair out. It’s silent as the two boys stare at each other, having a mental battle of some sort with neither one backing down. 

After what seems to be a century, Minghao was done with this game. He wanted to shut Wen Junhui down for good. The boy got up and walked the short distance to Junhui before pushing his mouth against the other’s again, just like he did four days ago. Only this time, Junhui wasn’t surprised and kissed back. The red head got aggressive in response, biting down on the other’s lip and putting his tongue in the other’s mouth. Junhui accepted it as a start to another challenge and followed suit. It was messy and dirty, all teeth and no control. 

Junhui had enough though, pulling back to break the kiss. For a second, Minghao thought he won, but was quickly proved wrong. Junhui grabbed Minghao’s wrist and upper thigh and pulled him in, forcing the boy to straddle his lap. Junhui wasted no time to latch onto Minghao’s neck, to no doubt leave a mark. The red head unintentionally whined and gripped Junhui’s shoulder. He could feel the smirk against his skin.

Junhui still had a hand on Minghao’s thigh, but let go of his wrist to snake up under his shirt instead. Minghao shivered as the hand came up to tease his nipple. He hated how riled up he was getting when Junhui was as cool as always. Plus, Junhui was winning the game they were playing and Minghao didn’t like it one bit. So, the red head took some action and began to grind down on the other’s crotch.

He hears a low groan from Junhui, which is frankly too close to his ear and goes straight to his own dick. It’s a weird thing to think about when he knows he shouldn’t be turned on by the other’s voice. It was a voice that spoke lies and vulgarity, but it somehow turned sexy for today’s sake. Junhui retaliates by pinching Minghao’s nipple and sucking a spot above his collar bone. It makes the other let out a breathy moan, hand flying to the raven boy’s hair and tugging. Junhui licks over the bruise before speaking in a low voice Minghao doesn’t completely recognize. 

“Give up babe.” 

It causes Minghao to shiver again. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting like this. He hates Wen Junhui. He shouldn’t like how cold his hands are or how rough his kisses are, but somehow he does. But, hell like he was going to say it to anyone, let alone the actual person he was feeling it from. So Minghao pushes his thoughts to the side, opting to continue their game. 

“Fuck no.” He breathes out. 

Minghao pulls at Jun’s hair so he’s not sucking on his neck anymore and slots their mouths together again for a heated kiss. Just like before, it’s sloppy and aggressive, but Minghao likes it. Junhui moves both his hands to grip the other’s upper thigh, kneading the flesh there. He’s so close to Minghao’s growing dick that the red head wants to either shove Junhui’s hand down his pants or squirm away and stop everything they were doing. Because did either of them knew what they were doing?

The boy doesn’t get to think much longer before the door swings wide open.

“Yo, we’re here to-oh my god.” 

Both Chinese boys pause to look at their two friends. Wonwoo looks like a deer in headlights while Mingyu has a hand over his mouth, trying not to scream.

Suddenly, Minghao is hyper aware that he’s straddling Junhui, who still doesn’t have a shirt on, while having hickeys lining up his neck. He has a boner and has lips slick with spit. It wasn’t a great moment to be caught in. The red head quickly takes himself off the other boy and walks to the other bed, shoving his books back in his backpack.

“I won.” 

The boy stops packing and throws a glare behind his back. Junhui is back to smirking, arms behind him as he leans back casually. 

“Like hell you did.” Minghao spits back, going back to packing his stuff.

“Really? Those marks don’t mean anything?” 

“No.” 

“Okay, Haohao.” 

Minghao zips his bag up and fights the fire building in his chest. He hated that nickname four days ago. Suddenly, the very same name burns in a very different way. 

“Fuck you.” The boy hissed as he started putting his shoes back on.

“I’m trying to.”

Minghao glances up to look at Junhui’s face, arrogant and pretty, still smiling. He hates how he doesn’t want to throw a brick at him. The red head doesn’t comment back, grabs his bag, and just walks past his two shocked friends. 

He walks down the hallway and pushes the door open with a little too much force. Once he passes them, he starts to run down the steps. He doesn’t know why, but he keeps running until he makes it to his own dorm. 

By the time he shuts his door, he can feel his lungs burning and legs asking for rest. He throws his bag down and goes toward his bed, stopping only when he catches a glimpse of himself in the hung up mirror. The bruises are an angry shade of blue and purple, contrasting greatly with his skin. They’re scattered around along his neck and collarbone, all varying in size. He counts seven before turning away to lay down on his bed. He knows it doesn’t mean anything and that he shouldn’t feel anything, but he presses down on the marks anyways. They hurt in a sweet sort of way that he doesn’t completely hate.


End file.
